


Overwhelming

by KaizoTrap



Category: Epithet Erased (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, One Shot, Panic Attacks, Sylvester gets consumed by thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22521190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaizoTrap/pseuds/KaizoTrap
Summary: Feeling stressed out by his work, Sylvester decides to isolate himself so he can focus.Turns out that's not good for your mental health.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Sylvester "Sylvie" Ashling & Molly Blyndeff
Comments: 14
Kudos: 120





	Overwhelming

It's the middle of the day. The sun lightly beamed through the curtains and onto Sylvester's workplace. He was housed up in his room, alone, tapping a pencil against his fingers and staring down at a notebook. With Mera's recent escape, he knew he had to help his friends. All he needed was a plan.

A stack of psychology books rests beside him. He abruptly stopped studying as soon as word of Mera's escape reached him, but now that he was side eying the books... He started feeling guilty. Not only was he neglecting his schoolwork, but he had neglected many of his other responsibilities too. He had been locking himself in his house for days, hoping to get _something_ done, but he swears he feels like he's running around in circles... Getting distracted. Even now, he was getting lost in his own thoughts, detracting precious time from what could be spent productively.

_What are you doing, Sylvester?_

_Aren't you supposed to be working?_

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could tell where his thoughts were going, and he wasn't going to allow it. Just work on helping Molly, that's it. That's all he had to do. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. Breathe in, hold--

_You're not working as hard as you should._

He exhaled. He couldn't deny that. He had a job, friends, people to care about, and here he was, loitering like he had all the time in the world. He looked down at his paper -- His plans for stopping Mera -- studying it carefully. He had only a few notes written down, which was strange. Normally he'd have more. He looked at the clock... It's been-- 30 minutes?! What? Already? Has he really been sitting here, staring at his page idly?

_What's wrong with you?_

His brows furrowed and he rolled his pencil between his fingers. Just _think_. You just have to get something down on the page, Sylvester. It doesn't matter if it's stupid, or nonsensical -- Just get _something_ on there!

...

He stared blankly at the page, trying to wreck through his brain for something. Anything.

. . .

Nothing. He fidgeted uncomfortably, tensefully. _What's wrong with me?_ Normally he's able to get even an _idea_ on the page. Now here he was, twiddling his thumbs like some kind of monkey. Hell, a monkey could come up with better ideas than him. _Why can't I do it?_ He did everything he could, right? _Maybe it wasn't good enough. Would it ever be good enough?_

His breathing quickened. _They're probably going to die without me._ His fingers flexed uncomfortably. _It's going to be all my fault. Me and my stupid inability to do basic shit._ He stared straight down at the page, yet through it. _I can't- Why can't I? What's wrong with me?_

The world around him grew blurry, distorted. _Have I always been this way? So incapable?_ He can't hear the birds chirping outside anymore.

_I've always been this way. **I've always been such a failure.**_

The whole world goes silent, save for his own thoughts.

_It's no wonder my family hates me._

He clutched the pencil in his hand like a lifeline.

_My friends probably do too, with all the shit I've fucked up._

_When's the last time my family's called?_

_Do they know if I'm alive?_

Was he shaking?

_Do they even care?_

He couldn't tell. He was too trapped in his own thoughts to even notice.

_I'm so sorry... I should have been a better son. I could have. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I'm so sorry i'm so s_

He didn't even notice the tears streaming down his face, or the door behind him opening, or the voice that softly called his name.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump out of his skin and brought him rapidly out of his thoughts. He whizzed around in a daze and stared down at the little invader...

Molly.

The look of intense concern and pity she was giving him was enough to stir a barrage of different thoughts, he had no idea which to act on first. Yell at her for coming in uninvited? Ask her why she's here? What should he do?

"Are... Are you okay?" Molly's soft, hesitant voice was enough to make Sylvester intensely self aware of the state he was in. His face felt wet, his eyes sore from a crying session he didn't even know he had -- _Oh god, he probably looked like a mess,_ \-- He immediately used his sleeve to wipe his tears.

He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. What could he do..? He couldn't tell her he's perfectly fine, that'd just lead to more questioning. He couldn't walk away, Molly was standing between him and the door. He was shoved in a pathological corner by Molly, like a game of cat and mouse.

Several seconds passed of silence, Sylvester's eyes staring at the ground, almost ashamed... Yet Molly seemed all the more patient and waited for him to speak.

"I... I don't know. I don't-" He took a deep breath, sniffling pathetically. "I don't think so," Those words, as indirect of an admittance as they were, had made his stomach lurch in his gut. He felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He felt like he just got beat up, too.

He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes again. _Was that all it took to make him cry again?_ He cursed himself silently and rubbed his wrists into his eyes, pausing to gently place (or, well, semi-accidentally throw) his pencil back onto his desk. He could hear a small gasp emit from Molly.

"No, no, it's okay! Don't cry, please, I-" She instinctively reached out her hand in an attempt to comfort him, only for him to flinch in the other direction. They locked eyes for a second and Molly shot him a soft, empathetic smile.

"I'm only going to use my Epithet on you. If it can ease physical pain, then I... Think it might help you?" She explained softly. Molly never had to use her Epithet on someone who was crying, so she wasn't sure if it would work... Honestly, she had no idea what she was doing. She just wanted desperately to help.

Sylvester didn't respond, he simply nodded and sucked in another breath. He kept staring at the floor. He couldn't bear to make eye contact. Everything hurt. His eyes were sore, his arms tired, his legs tense, his chest tight, his stomach in knots. He didn't want to think, or speak. He was so _tired_. Tired of everything. He hoped he didn't look as bad as he felt.

He did.

Molly took a moment to look around his room. She slowly moved forward, gently took his hand, and sat herself and him on his bed. Without another word, she closed her eyes and placed her palms against him, focusing her energy.

Sylvester's breathing slowed. He could feel the weight in his chest dulling... Becoming more tolerable. His thoughts slowed and he took a deep breath, _thankfully_ not sniffling pathetically again. He didn't feel great, but... This was so much better compared to all the rampaging thoughts he had before.

_God, they were still lingering in the back of his mind._

"Are you feeling any better..?" Molly asked with a tilt of her head. She definitely noticed how his breathing deepened and he seemed to relax.

"Yeah." Sylvester stated somewhat dully. Tiredly. He knew he was lying. His eyes briefly wandered to hers and a weak, strained smile graced his face. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Molly returned the same smile.

She knew it wasn't over yet.

Sylvester gulped and averted his eyes once more. He knew Molly expected him to _explain_ himself. He didn't want to. He didn't even want to be here. He wanted to wake up, have this all be some kind of bad dream. But as he fiddled with his hands and pinched them -- No, he was wide awake. It felt like some kind of nightmare. The world was moving at a blur.

He glanced at Molly. Her legs were dangling over the bed, notably swinging ever so slightly. His eyes reached hers, only for them to lock eyes.

He supposed he might as well try to say something.

"Wh-" He almost grimaced at his own stutter, "What are you doing here? I thought... You were looking for Mera. Or something." Not nearly as confident as he wanted to sound. _Wow, you're terrible._

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to barge in..." Molly didn't want to feel guilty for helping him at all, but she did. "It's just... No one's seen you around lately, and you weren't answering your phone, so I..." Molly paused for a second and glanced to the side, as if pondering how to best word her sentence. "Decided to check on you."

Sylvester stared at her. "Oh." Molly stared back.

Several seconds passed, but with Molly's gaze on him, it was more than enough for him to shift uncomfortably.

"...Do you want to talk about it?" Her innocent, practically glowing eyes bore into Sylvester's very soul. He grimaced.

"No." He stated flatly, as if it was the most obvious question in the world.

"Do you _need_ to talk about it?" Her tone was ever so slightly more stern, yet as gentle as ever. Sylvester could have sworn he saw her eyebrows raise. That little monster.

The silent, blank look he gave her said it all.

_Don't bore her with your own problems, Syl._

He let out a breath and hugged himself. Not that it did anything, it just made him feel... Safer.

Now, all he had to do was speak, but his voice felt like it was caught in his throat. He swallowed roughly. Why was his throat sore? He hasn't even been talking much lately. What if he had? Could he have avoided all this if he had just talked to his friends like he always did? He probably could have faked it better. Next time, he will, now that he knows his absence sets off alarms in his friend's head. He might even--

"Sylvie?" Molly's voice startled him and his eyes snapped in her direction. Wow, his thought process didn't help him at all. Though Molly's expression was still patient, he could feel the silent, unspoken pressure to speak.

_Might as well._

He sucked in a breath as if about to say something. Molly perked up, her attention fully on him, ready to listen...

...Only for his mouth to clamp shut again.

He shut his eyes and rubbed his temples. He felt so unbelievably unconscious, so uncomfortable in his own skin -- Wasn't Molly's Epithet supposed to dumb these feelings and thoughts down? _It was working, right? Oh my god what if it didn't. What if it only lasted a small amount of time? He certainly didn't feel calm, or dumb, or anything like that. Uh oh oh god oh n o-_

Suddenly, he felt small arms wrapping around him as Molly leaned into him. He tensed under the touch, and Molly was certain he was about to pull away... But he didn't.

" _It's okay!_ You're okay, Sylvie... You don't have to tell me anything if you're not ready." Molly said lowly, almost whispering. As if she was afraid of scaring him away.

Sylvester looked down at her, frozen in what he could only describe as shock.

Normally he would have yelled and pushed away anyone who dared attempt to hug him, but right now? He was so very tired.

"I... We care about you. And whatever you're going through, you shouldn't have to face it by yourself! You..." Molly paused. She took a deep breath. She wasn't going to hold back. Sylvie _needed_ to hear this. Was it going to work? She had no idea. But she was going to try.

"You're amazing. And there's so much you can do! You're so smart, you've helped so many people. I've always looked up to you, and, and- Everyone's so proud of you! That's why you deserve to feel happy and peaceful with the people who love you!" In her brief moments of stopping to gather her thoughts, she heard him sniffle. She frowned lightly and nuzzled her face into his chest, her vice grip on him tightening. "Whatever your thoughts are telling you are wrong..."

When Molly heard a quiet sob and felt Sylvester's arm moving, she lifted her head up to meet his eyes.

Tears were streaming down yet again and he was using his sleeve to wipe them away. Molly felt a twinge of guilt, the possibility that she said something wrong swirled in her mind... But when Sylvester hugged her back and rested his chin on her head, that thought was silenced.

The tears were falling. And they wouldn't _stop_ , no matter how hard he tried. Every breath he took to try to steady himself was met with a hiccup and a sob.

He didn't say anything. Neither did Molly. They both sat in each other's embrace as Sylvester's tears fell into Molly's starry hair. She felt her own eyes welling up from the sheer amount of emotion he held, but she tried her best to hold strong. If she started sobbing too, that'd just make Sylvie feel even worse.

What felt like hours to Sylvester passed and he found his quiet sobbing slowly coming to an end.

Even after there was nothing but the occasional hiccup and sniffle, the two sat together in their hug.

And as the occasional hiccup slowed into deep, undisturbed breathing, Sylvester found himself more at ease.

He found it funny. He never thought he would have felt comforted by a hug. He always hated them. Yet he almost didn't want to pull away.

He knew they couldn't stay like this forever.

"Hey, um..." Molly was the first to put a little distance between the two, but not enough to let go. She looked up at him with a soft smile. "Do you want to go out and do something?"

He pulled out of the hug. Mostly because he felt it would have been socially awkward to continue... The very idea of leaving the house in this state made Sylvester's exhaustion triple.

"Maybe we could get some ice cream? Ice cream always cheers me up when I'm sad!" She grinned widely and closed her eyes. Now that was tempting.

"Bribing me with ice cream, are you?" Sylvester pushed his glasses up his nose like an anime supervillain. He was shocked by the steadiness of his own voice... A little hoarse, clearly tired, but he almost felt proud that he didn't sound pathetic. "I never expected you to use such cheap tactics against me."

"Yeah well, I'm a bad guy now. I can do what I want!" Molly gave a smug grin. "Giovanni taught me the art of bribery." Molly practically jumped off the bed and Sylvester followed suit.

"Wooow, you're really becoming the little criminal aren't you? What are you going to do next, pickpocket me in my sleep?" The previous tension had already washed away. It wasn't forgotten, and it probably won't ever be... But the both of them found themselves surrendering to the lighter mood.

Molly froze on the spot, turned her head to him without moving her body, and stared into Sylvester's eyes with a wide smile. "That's a good idea, Sylvie." Her childish giggling betrayed her attempt at being mildly threatening.

Sylvester stuck his tongue out at her.

She did it right back.

They knew everything was going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> yes hi hello this is my first post on here and i am scared to death. i am prepared to face oblivion  
> if you didnt skip this part thank you, have a nice day


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